


Dinosaurs, Hairclips and Other Extinct Things

by casastella



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Brief mention of homophobia, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Hairclips as a plot device, M/M, Roommates, Shirabu makes questionable relationship choices, estranged friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casastella/pseuds/casastella
Summary: [Semishira Week: Day 3]When his mum called him to excitedly inform him of a new, potential roommate, advertised with the phrase, “He’s a lovely boy, Eita, remember?” Semi didn’t realise exactly what he was signing up for.Shirabu Kenjirou is cold and aloof, and stays up far too late with zero consideration for the one who has to share the space with him.But despite the rough beginning, Semi isn't one to give up so easily.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 123
Collections: Semishira Week 2020





	Dinosaurs, Hairclips and Other Extinct Things

**Author's Note:**

> Please ignore the bad title. I have exams and my brain has given up on me.

When his mum called him to excitedly inform him of a new, potential roommate, advertised with the phrase, “He’s a lovely boy, Eita, remember?” Semi didn’t realise exactly what he was signing up for.

The thing is, Semi does remember. Shirabu Kenjirou used to be his neighbour and best friend nine years ago before Shirabu moved away, and now he was starting first year at the university Semi attended, looking for a place to live. In theory it sounds fine, if a bit awkward. Nine years shouldn’t be too hard to reconnect considering they were pretty close before.

What Semi hasn’t counted on is the fact that this Shirabu Kenjirou is not the same one he had sleepovers with every weekend. No, this Shirabu arrives at the dormitory with a suitcase in hand, a bag over his shoulders and an icy bitch face.

“Hi,” Semi greets him at the door, grinning widely in hope of appearing friendly. Second first impressions and all. “Nice to see you again.”

Shirabu nods without a word.

He wheels the suitcase into the room, eyes taking in every single inch like he’s personally offended by what he sees. Semi’s side of the room is already decorated the same way he had last year, a handful of band posters up on the wall, two guitars hung up on holders, his desk currently hosting an 88-key electric keyboard and a laptop. The other side of the room is perfectly bare, save for a naked mattress and an identical wardrobe to the one on Semi’s side.

Shirabu goes there without another word and starts unpacking.

Semi thinks, _Okay. All right. No big deal._

“So it’s been a while,” Semi starts, sitting on his own bed. “How’ve you been?”

Shirabu spins around so fast on his heel it gives Semi a whiplash. “Look. I’m only here because our parents are friends. I barely remember anything about you and if you don’t mind, I’d like to make my own friends that I choose, not because we knew each other once upon a time. No offense.” 

And now Semi thinks, _Huh._ “None taken,” he forces out. “If you need me, I’ll be on my side of the room.”

There goes the possibility of a heartfelt reunion. At least Shirabu’s shitty haircut hasn’t changed in nine years.

~

For the most part, Shirabu isn’t entirely terrible. He’s quiet and keeps to his side of the room, though his mess sometimes strays over to Semi’s side and Semi would kick it back over. The mess is big. There’s always a pile of clothes that relocates from the bed and the chair, depending on which one is in use, and his bin is always overflowing with used pens, scrunched up scrap paper, empty chip packets and red bull cans. Semi prefers a more organised mess but Shirabu mess stays mostly contained within its boundaries so it’s fine.

Shirabu does, however, stay up late studying with a nightlight and it’s impossible for Semi to sleep so the issue begins there. Semi tries to put up with it, buries his head in the blankets but the lingering summer heat is still blistering hot and he sweats under the covers, suffocating.

After a couple weeks of living together in awkward silence, Semi finally snaps, “Can you maybe sleep like a normal human being?”

Shirabu replies calmly, “I have to finish this lecture by tomorrow, Semi-san.”

Semi can’t really remember what they called each other before but hearing ‘Semi-san’ come out of Shirabu’s lips sounds wrong. “What the hell were you doing the whole day then?”

Shirabu doesn’t say anything.

That’s before they sleep. When Semi finally manages to fall asleep from exhaustion, Shirabu chucks balls of paper at him until he wakes up and growls, “What?”

“Sorry, you were snoring.”

Semi has never wanted to commit murder so badly. Shirabu is rude and inconsiderate in such a polite way that it crawls under Semi’s skin. It’s always ‘Semi-san’ and ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, followed by something like, ‘be quiet’ or ‘you don’t understand’ or something equally condescending. Semi remembers that Shirabu has never been one to hold back things that don’t sit well with him but this is a whole new level of insult that Semi swears he doesn’t deserve.

But even this isn’t so bad. Semi eventually buys himself a sleep mask and Shirabu invests in noise-cancelling headphones and their daily interactions are condensed to bickering in the morning and then before bed. It becomes routine.

The real issue begins when Shirabu brings someone over. The guy is tall, has blue-dyed hair shaved on the sides and wears ripped jeans. His smile gives Semi the impression of a vulture watching a dying animal. He says his name is Watanabe and he sits with Shirabu on his bed without taking off his shoes.

Semi’s not sure whether he should stay in the room or leave. On one hand, Shirabu and Watanabe aren’t doing anything but watching stuff on a laptop, earphone shared between them. On the other, Watanabe laughs loudly, sits very close to Shirabu and looks at him with this one specific face and Semi can’t tell what their relationship is.

So just to save himself from the discomfort of sharing this twelve square meters with them, he takes out his basketball from the closet and leaves. When he comes back, Watanabe is gone and Shirabu is wearing a new shirt with a too-wide neck that reveals bruises on his collarbone.

“Boyfriend?” Semi dares to ask. 

Shirabu makes a disgusted face. “No.”

A raised eyebrow. “Fuck buddies.”

An even more disgusted face. “No.”

_Well._ Semi supposes those hickeys are from wrestling leeches in the pond by the biology building.

~

The next time Watanabe drops by, he’s blonde and Shirabu is surprised, but not about the hair. Semi is about to leave for band practice so he can make a safe getaway, packing is guitar faster, trying not to listen to their conversation.

“You didn’t say you were coming,” Shirabu says, though he lets Watanabe in anyway.

“That’s not a problem, right? I found the full video of the Italian circuit from 2004. The quality is hella bad but I wanted to watch it with you. And also there’s a party tonight at Takeshi’s place. Come with me.”

Shirabu has been stressing over an upcoming mid-semester exam all evening and the explosive evidence of it still sit scattered over his desk and bed. The pile of clothes has moved onto the floor at the foot of the bed to make room for his papers.

But Semi watches as Shirabu gives them one long look before packing everything up, saying, “Yeah, sure.”

Semi leaves before he further intrudes on their (one-sided) conversation about racing cars. When he gets back, Shirabu is not there and for once he falls asleep peacefully – at least until Shirabu stumbles in and light from the hallway pours into the room. Semi hears a heavy sigh as he drifts back to sleep.

~

Semi remembers something about Shirabu one night, unable to sleep because the room is still too hot and an afternoon nap means he can’t fall asleep quickly enough. He rips off the mask, turns to a cooler side of the bed and sees Shirabu chewing on his pen, fringe in his face. The something Semi remembers is that Shirabu used to like hairclips and headbands. He used to have a box full of them, all colourful, most of them gifted by his mum and Semi. At home, he always had his fringe swept up with an assortment of clips.

Without thinking, Semi says, “Hairclips.”

Shirabu turns to him, the frown going from paper to Semi’s face. “What?”

“Your hair is in your eyes. Why don’t you clip it up?”

“Because I am a nineteen-year-old guy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Do you still like Power Ranger clothes?” he counters.

“Hell yeah. I own three shirts and I’d own more if I could find them my size.”

“Well, I grew out of hairclips. Please stop making a big deal out of this.”

Then he goes back to his books. Semi wonders, _Why are you like this?_ The Shirabu he knew would lose sleep over the idea of getting new hairclips. He’d try to convince Semi that _he_ needed clips as well even though his hair was never longer than a buzzcut back then.

Semi huffs and supposes that Shirabu is allowed to grow out of things. After all, he grew out of Semi.

~

Watanabe appears unannounced again that Friday afternoon after Shirabu finished his exam and he lies face-down on his bed. The door swings open without so much as a knock and Semi is startled enough to leave a streak of highlighter across his assignment. Shirabu looks up too as not-boyfriend barges in.

“Shin,” he says groggily. He hoists himself up, eyes barely open and those dark bags don’t help him look any better. “You said you had something to do today.”

Watanabe smiles and throws himself onto Shirabu’s bed. “Koba cancelled last minute so here I am. Wanna play a game?”

Shirabu nods. “Sure.”

He stifles a yawn and reaches for his closed laptop on the desk. Semi recalls being told only a few minutes before that if he dares to wake him up, Semi himself would never wake up again.

_Not boyfriend, my ass_.

Semi continues his assignment. Watanabe is loud again, as he always is, and Semi’s is one hundred percent sure that he wants Semi to leave but that’s not happening. Between band practice, classes and work, the assignment has sat untouched for two weeks and it is due the next day. So Watanabe has to put up with Semi and Semi has to put up with him.

When it becomes clear that Semi has no intention of leaving _his_ room any time soon, it’s Watanabe who leaves and says, “I’ll come back some other time.”

He ruffles Shirabu’s hair and the most shocking part is, Shirabu lets him. He looks tired and his lips are set in a thin line but he still manages a soft, “See you later.”

When Semi settles into bed that night, Shirabu finally wakes up from the evening nap and he shuffles around in the dark.

“Hey, Shirabu,” Semi says. “I don’t appreciate people barging into my space like they own the place. Make sure your friend knows.”

A hum. “Sorry.”

“Also,” Semi begins. He reconsiders what he’s about to say and phrases it differently. “I want to have a guy over. Is it cool if you’re not here until about six tomorrow?”

Shirabu bumps into something, and then the room goes silent. “Boyfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Hook-up.”

“Oh.” More silence.

“Sex,” Semi clarifies. “We’re gonna have sex, in case that wasn’t clear. So can you not be here until six?”

“Yes, fine!” Shirabu snaps. “I don’t- I don’t care! Do whatever you want. Whoever. I don’t care. Just- Don’t touch my stuff.”

Shirabu bumps around the room rapidly and then scurries out the door, carrying clothes and a towel in his arms. Semi laughs.

He, in fact, does not have anyone over at all but Shirabu doesn’t have to know that.

~

Semi buys Shirabu three pairs of hairclips. One is blue and has stars on the ends. Another has watermelons and the other is simple lilac with tiny gems dotted along the centre. He leaves it on Shirabu’s desk before he goes out for band practice and when he comes back, Shirabu has the blue ones in his hair. He does not look at Semi but his blush speaks for itself.

A few days later, Semi notices an extra poster on his wall. It’s not much of a poster as much as a grainy, shitty-quality photo of a DinoThunder Power Rangers poster printed out on A4 paper. He laughs. No, he full on cackles like a banshee and he can’t stand up for a few minutes because his stomach hurts like hell.

Shirabu groans into his pillow, face red, and growls, “Stop laughing, you jerk! I can’t afford a proper one, okay? I don’t even know where to buy one!”

When Semi is unable to stop, Shirabu throws the pillow at him and Semi laugh-cries into it.

That night, when they’re both lying on the bed, scrolling on their phones – because it’s Sunday tomorrow and Shirabu decides to not study – Semi tells him, “Thanks for the poster. It looks like crap but I appreciate that you remember my favourite team.”

Shirabu grumbles, “It’s less that I remember your favourite team and more that I hated it.”

“Still can’t believe you hate dinosaurs. They’re so fucking cool.”

“Good to see that you’re still mentally six years old.” Semi snorts but doesn’t argue. “And dinosaurs are dumb. They’re big and strong but lacked braincells to survive.”

Semi makes a face at him. “There was an asteroid! You try surviving that.”

Shirabu looks straight at him and deadpans, “I fucking will.”

Lying the dark, the glow of their phones lighting up only their faces, this entire conversation is so stupid that Semi sniggers. Shirabu exhales through his nose in what’s practically laughter for him. And they quietly continue scrolling.

It’s not until Semi has turned off his phone and put on his mask that Shirabu says, “How’s your family?”

“They’re good. Not sure if you remember but they’re the same as they were before. Mum’s gotten into pottery though. She has a bunch of her stuff that she displays in the living room and I love her too much to tell her they look weird.”

Shirabu hums. “I like your mum.”

Semi wants to ask how his family is doing but he’s not sure how to. Tonight is the most personal any of their conversations have ever been and he doesn’t want to press the wrong buttons. When Shirabu moved away, Semi was too young to realise exactly what’s been happening in Shirabu’s home. Everything was always watered down by childish naivety. It’s only when he was older that his parents told him the full extent of what happened, paired with the firm message to not be a dick.

“My mum is okay,” Shirabu says without Semi having to ask. “We’re both doing better. Dad is too, I guess, with his new family.”

Semi pinches his mask up to stare into the darkness. “Do you ever see him?”

“Once a year because Mum wants me to. I hate him and he doesn’t like me either.”

“Shirabu,” Semi starts reluctantly, “what happened wasn’t your fault.”

Shirabu doesn’t say anything back.

“It’s not,” Semi repeats, with more conviction this time. “Your dad was an ass who didn’t want to put in the effort and bailed. It’s on him, not you.”

“Semi-san,” Shirabu says, “I was forced to see a shrink for two years. With all due respect, I don’t want to talk about that asshole again, least of all with you.”

And that is that. Shirabu says goodnight and Semi is left peering into the darkness as his eyes begin to adjust to the tiny slither of moonlight that sneaks in between the cracks in the curtains. He swears Shirabu is staring back.

~

The semester ends and they both leave for the break to their respective towns. When they get back, a new routine forms. Shirabu gets used to the university workload and learns better time management so that he gets the Saturday evening free and he spends it watching crappy Netflix movies. Semi, who does not have a subscription, leeches off Shirabu’s Netflix, which eventually becomes movie nights huddled on either of their beds. (Usually Semi’s because it’s cleaner.)

But tonight, they’re on Shirabu’s bed and they’re watching To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Semi has to admit it’s not that bad. It’s not his genre of choice by any means but Shirabu, despite what he says, seems to really enjoy it the way he usually, unironically, enjoys all crappy romantic movies Netflix puts out.

Then a knock comes on the door and Semi knows who it is before it opens. Shirabu closes the browser, pulls out his hair clips and Semi moves off of the bed as Watanabe comes in, eyeing him.

Not-boyfriend starts talking to Shirabu about how his day has been a wild goose chase and how it’d be great to just sit back and relax with him. Semi gets the hint. But Shirabu’s eyes say something else so he stays in the room, fidgeting with the keyboard and headphones, volume near zero.

Watanabe does not ask Shirabu about how his day was, or about what he wants to do. Instead, he suggests re-watching the 2016 Grand Prix or playing some online game and Shirabu is about to nod to both of those like he always does.

Then he catches Semi’s eyes and says, “Actually, I was watching a movie before you came. Can we watch finish that?”

Watanabe frowns. “But I don’t like your movies.”

Shirabu nods once. “Let’s watch the Grand Prix.”

Watanabe’s mood seems to sour as time passes and Semi keeps shuffling around the room, moving from keyboard to electric guitar. He actually is working on a composition assignment but it irritates Watanabe enough that he slams the space bar hard to pause the video. Semi stares him down, dares him to say something but of course, Watanabe won’t. He turns a frown to Shirabu instead.

“You said he won’t be in tonight,” he hisses.

Shirabu glowers. “I said Friday evenings.”

Watanabe huffs harshly. It’s probably meant to seem like a ticked off bull but it looks more like a lousy tantrum. “I’m leaving.”

As he leaves, Semi loudly mutters, “Good riddance.”

Shirabu is on him as soon as the door closes, furious. “What’s wrong with you?”

Semi can’t help gaping in disbelief. “ _Me?_ What’s wrong with _you_? That guy is a massive jerk.”

“He is not! You just pissed him off.”

“Oh, please. He’s been getting on my nerves first time he stepped foot in this room but I didn’t say anything for your sake.”

Shirabu stands. “He’s a good person,” he defends.

Semi knows logically that Shirabu is just trying to convince himself but Semi has had enough of Watanabe and he can’t help but snap, “He treats you like shit, Shirabu! He cares about no one but himself. All he wants is to watch his fucking race cars and does nothing that _you_ want. When are you going to tell him that you hate it?”

“I don’t hate it.”

“Yes, you do! This isn’t how a relationship works, Shirabu. He comes in when it fits _him_ , doesn’t care if you’re dead tired. He drags you out to parties and you come back hungover and vomiting. You’re the one sacrificing everything and going along with whatever the fuck he wants. I can’t even imagine what else he convinces you to do against your will!”

“He doesn’t! And it’s not a relationship. We’re not dating. Stop sticking your nose into my business, Semi-san.”

“I tried that, okay? I tried that and I can’t watch it anymore-”

“Well, I never asked you to!”

Shirabu shouts it. He shouts it loud enough for probably the entire building to hear and afterwards he shakes. His hands tremble violently and tears well in his eyes. Semi takes a step back. And then another until he hits the chair.

“I know,” he says. “I know. But you should know that you deserve much better. Friend, boyfriend, whatever. You deserve better.”

Semi sits back down. Shirabu grabs his phone and leaves, slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t come back that night, nor is he in the room the next morning. Semi has to leave for his shift at work and the whole day, he keeps touching his phone, itching to send a text but he refrains. When he gets back, it’s eight o’clock at night.

Shirabu has come back, has buried himself in the covers, facing the wall. For once, his side of the room is clean. Not a single stray piece of clothe in sight, desk neatly organised, bin emptied. Semi wants to talk but figures that he can’t push too hard. That’s another thing he remembers from before. Shirabu usually comes around when he’s ready.

And tonight, he’s ready after Semi comes back from the showers, sitting at his desk to prepare for tomorrow.

He doesn’t turn around as he mumbles, “We broke up.”

“I thought you weren’t dating.” It’s a shit thing to say at a time like this but Semi is upset too. He’s had to watch Shirabu be mistreated for months and trying to look out for him only got him yelled at.

Shirabu replies, “It was just easier if we didn’t put a name to it. I felt less guilty.”

“Guilty for what? Dating a guy?”

He makes a sound of affirmation. “That’s one of the things my parents fought about. Dad hated that Mum let me wear hairclips and paint my nails. I stopped that after they split because I thought that would somehow bring them back together. And if I’m not _dating_ a guy then Dad had nothing to hold against me.”

“He has nothing to hold against you no matter what.”

“I don’t…” Shirabu trails off quietly. “I don’t think I even told the shrink about this stuff. I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“Well, your dad is an asshole and so is Watanabe. We both agree on that, right?”

Shirabu sniffles. “He’s a fucking douchebag. I said that to his face this morning.”

“What finally made you realise?”

Shirabu turns around, eyes bloodshot like he’d been crying. “I always knew. I was just afraid that no one else would want to take the time to deal with me so I put up with him. I’m…not the easiest person to be with.”

Semi rolls his chair over to Shirabu. He takes a watermelon clip from the desk and pins Shirabu’s fringe with it. “I know you’re not. But that doesn’t mean you should let someone treat you like that, Kenjirou.”

Shirabu is impossibly earnest when he says, “I know.”

“If you want, I’ll finish that movie with you. I want to see how it ends.”

“We have classes tomorrow.”

Semi shrugs, already reaching for Shirabu’s laptop. “You just went through a breakup. We can afford to slack off for one night. Now scoot over.”

Shirabu does and Semi slides under the blankets. It’s going to become uncomfortably warm for him soon but it’s okay for now. Sitting against the headboard, they continue where they left off last night, Shirabu’s head awkwardly coming down to lean on Semi’s shoulder.

When the move nears the end and Semi thinks Shirabu might’ve dozed off, Shirabu says quietly, “Thank you, Semi-san.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are always very much appreciated. ^.^


End file.
